There were two days in a row this week that I woke, unexpectedly, from a deep sleep before 6am. Pair that with an unplanned late night because of a rowdy thunderstorm and my brain was complete mush. I dragged through the work day on Friday. Thank goodness it was a work from home day. I stayed in cozy clothes and drank some extra coffee. At one point, I caught myself just blinking at my laptop screen without comprehending anything. It was not the best day. But now it's the middle of a long weekend and we're trying to soak in some extra pool time. It's not the last pool weekend of the season, but it might be the best chance left to savor a cooling dip in hot weather. Then again, DC always has a week in October that feels like July. I'm still catching up on sleep so maybe a nap in the lounger by the pool is also warranted.
0 Comments
The news alerts were not kind this week. When the notices about the passings of Dolly Parton, Tim Curry, and Yayoi Kusama landed in my inbox, I was genuinely sad. I was not alone in my feelings. People have shared widely about how each of these artists impacted their lives and communities. And those stories have been of uplift, recognition, and joy. In our grief, we shared the widespread influence of these amazing people. It's heartening to see nothing put positivity shared in those stories. I think our grief is more profound because Parton, Curie, and Kusama were all creators. Not in the "content creators" trend of today, but in the true meaning of the word. They took their medium, whatever it was, and made something. They made us feel. They made us think. They made art where there was none before. They were human. They made human things. And they shared their gifts with the world. They will each be missed.
During my solo week at home, I ended up watching a few movies that were pure nostalgic picks. I can't say they all held up after a few decades, but one thing hit unexpectedly: the end credit songs. When the screen turned to the scroll and the song kicked in, my brain was back to when I first watched these films. It was a wonderful feeling! I was shocked by how I still knew the lyrics. Since no one was around, I ended up singing along. It's amazing what musical memories can do to you. I think I might need to make a playlist of these songs for when I need some good vibes. Which end credit song do you remember most?
Intro is going to be short this week. Normally, I take this week of the year off. (Everyone deserves a vacation.) But, I forgot to block it out in my calendar, and this post was already half written. So you get a (slightly shorter) Wrap! Just not a real intro. Cause I don't wanna. Enjoy the links!
This past week, one colleague and myself held down the fort at our library while all of our other colleagues were on vacation or using leave for life maintenance. While we do have summer sessions the first two weeks of August, there aren't many classes. We tend to pile a lot of our vacation leave into this time period because it's the least disruptive. The most exciting thing that happened this week was our building's fire alarm going off. Renovations are happening on another floor so this happens more often than we'd like. Weirdly, it turned out to be one of the library's smoke detectors that set it off. I was literally in the room with that smoke detector and didn't smell or see anything. Since the library was quiet, I walked around with public safety to puzzle that one over. We still don't know what happened, but I learned a lot about how our fire detection system works. We've got one more week of reduced staffing, but I'll be someone using leave this time. Cause we're fair like that.
For most of the summer, I've been working on some accessibility issues discovered on my library's website. (All universities are going through the process of ensuring their web presence is fully accessible.) Back in May, my colleague and I met with a member of the auditing team. After the meeting, the auditor sent us an accessibility report that had been provided from a (free) three-party vendor. Some of the things were easy fixes. Other things I used Claude's coding capabilities to help with. But the vast majority of errors on the report were either lacking context so I couldn't find the problem, not actually issues, or just plain wrong. Time and time again, I kept trying to find and fix errors that didn't exist. I went to the third-party vendor and ran our website through over and over. It kept coming back with failures. Today, I gave my colleague an update on the things I fixed, the things I thought he could fix, and the many issues that seemed unfixable. About 30 minutes later he came back with a review from a different web accessibility tool that said "Aside from this one issue, you're good! The other tool is crap." (The tool my colleague used actually showed where on the page the errors were occurring. It also differentiated between have to fix and should fix.) I 100% support being fully accessible but if you're web audit sends me an error that says fix this code "<p></p>" with no context or page link or full code snippet, you're not being helpful. I can't wait until this project is over.
One of the productive things I did with my week off was clean out our storage cabinets, bookcases, and dressers. I try do this once a year because it gives me a chance to see stuff that is hidden and dust in all the nooks and crannies. After a few hours, I came away with a few items to donate and a full bag of trash. How is this possible? Our place is neat. We stay on top of our donations because our building does a pick-up every two months. Any time something out grows it's usefulness, it goes in our donation bin. I like clear surfaces so things like unopened mail, filing, magazines, and craft projects are handled regularly. We don't let things we don't need linger. And, yet, whenever I do projects like this, I always find more things to toss and donate. I'm beginning to think it multiples on it's own when I'm not looking.
In honor of my summer birthday, I took the coming week off from work. The library is already slow, so it's the perfect time to use some annual leave. With my week off, I've decided I'm going to do one BIG productive thing a day. The rest of each day I will just putter about doing whatever floats my boat. But the chore I don't want to do is recycle our electronics. We've got an entire bag (plus a computer monitor!) sitting in a bin in our front closet. This chore is such a pain. There's nothing local. Our city's pop-up collections are sporadic at best. And it seems the stores that collect materials change their rules or costs all the time. Inevitably, as soon as I tackle what we've already collected, something else will appear that needs to be recycled. It never ends. So I'm just going to ignore this chore. It's my birthday week, after all.
Over the past few years, I've discovered how much I love helping people dig into their personal archives. Every person is the archivist of their own life. I've greatly enjoyed helping people learn how to tell, save, and share those stories. On Friday, I hosted a webinar in our personal archiving series on one of the trickiest parts of that work: knowing what to keep. Here are a few tips to get you started:
Curious enough to learn more? The recording is available on my library's YouTube page. I hope it helps you take one step toward preserving your own story.
I tried to start this intro a dozen separate times. I went through numerous topics and first sentences. None of my attempts stuck. Was it the heat dome? Maybe. Was it my to-do list running through my head? Possibly? Mostly, however, nothing felt right. So we're not forcing it. It's a holiday weekend after all. Here's the Wrap.
|


RSS Feed